


Birds of Promise

by StoryBookMuse



Series: Birds of Prey [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Son of Batman (2014)
Genre: M/M, Multi, We're getting the gang back together, You're Welcome, established relationship btw, it's sequel time, just in case you were wondering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-29 20:52:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryBookMuse/pseuds/StoryBookMuse
Summary: A year after they leave Gotham, our favorite fugitives are pulled back into the mix when the Court of Owls resurfaces and Batman vanishes without a trace. Unable to find his father or defend a restless Gotham alone, Damian must recruit the very criminals Batman had exiled. Jason is itching to get back to his roots, Tim is dreading it, and Dick is still dealing with the trauma of being an ex-Talon. Damian just wonders how the hell these idiots manage to function. This is a Birds of Prey sequel, you will need to read the first fic in order to understand the series of events that happen.





	1. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's past comes back to haunt him in a vicious nightmare, Jason and Tim do their best to comfort him. There is explicit violence and death, so be warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies!
> 
> It's been a year now and I've been playing with the idea of a sequel for a long time. After a thousand different beginning drafts, here is what I've come up with. I've got some great stuff (heart breaking angst, fluffy relationships and family bonding, and lots and lots of dirty SMUT) in the chapters to come.
> 
> I thought about starting it on a slightly happier note, but realistically, Dick would have some severe PTSD after everything he survived, so I thought I'd explore that and build from there. It really shows, too, just how supportive his boyfriends really are, and how much they need each other.
> 
> Now, as an end note here, I'm writing (unfortunately as always) without a beta, so if you see any mistakes in writing or errors in the timeline, please let me know and I'd definitely appreciate it :) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this introduction to the Birds of Prey Sequel.

The night was still and quiet inside the house, with the exception of the pattering rain drumming against the rather large windows of the foyer. As the only sound in the house, it echoed eerily off the wooden floors and across the plaster all throughout the spacious, attached living room. There he'd been waiting since 11 o'clock. They were later than he expected they'd be, but since the Mr. and Mrs. were due back home any minute, he was nothing if not patient. He lounged against their fine upholstery as the minutes ticked by, content to sit and meditate in the stillness of the night, as if he were a part of the furniture and the thundering rain itself. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room brilliantly; the man never even blinked. He did, however, tilt his chin with mild interest as the telltale sound of a grumbling engine pulled into the driveway outside.

At _last_.

He could hear two car doors slam shut, and the scuffle of footsteps splashing hurriedly against the rain. A woman, presumably the Mrs., giggled. The Mr. mumbled something with a gruff chuckle as the lock on the front door jiggled. Still, he made no move; he was quite calm and content to wait for the couple to show themselves in. Another flash of lightning crackled as the lock finally slid loose, allowing the door to swing open wide.

"-...to the shower, of course, we don't want you catching  _cold_ , darling," the Mr. chortled in concern as he held the door open for his Mrs. They were handsome folk, elegantly dressed, as they had just returned from a charity auction downtown, although now soaked to the bone under the unforgiving downpour.

"Nonsense, dear, we just had one before the function. I'll just change into my sleep gown," the woman insisted, smoothing her dewy hair back before  moving to shuck off her fancy, black overcoat. He watched with disinterest now as the two hung their dripping jackets together.

"Oh, alright, If you insist on being stubborn. But in that case, must you even wear the nightgown at all?" the Mr. winked at his wife with a suggestive grin. He earned a light chortle of interest and affection from the woman. She was flushing in her pastel dress, now, and he was drinking in the sight of her like a half-drowned fool.

"Oh, Daniel, you're incorrigible," she teased, turning away from him with a sheepish grin and stepping further into the living room. The Mr. murmured some half-wit seductive remark as he followed. They were getting closer to where the assassin slouched languidly on their couch, yet still he remained unnoticed. Another foot or so, he might actually get this done without being discovered at all. It was almost like a game, he mused to himself as the couple bantered with each other a mere feet away.

"Ashton is asleep, sweetheart. We're alone, we can do whatever we _want_ ," he insisted, reaching out a hand to stroke her sculpted cheek. The Mrs. giggled and hummed thoughtfully, glancing away as she did. Lightning flashed across the room as she mused, and this time, her wandering eyes found him. She froze and jumped with sudden shock.

"What is it, darling?" Came the husband's concern at her sudden, rigid stillness. Talon smiled coyly as her rosy cheeks turned to ash as she attempted to speak.

"Do you see his eyes?" she squeaked out, raising a finger in his direction.

"Whose?" the Mr. frowned, following her line of sight. Talon snorted quietly; it was _always_ the eyes with these people  He blinked evenly, drawing the Mr.'s attention to the tapetum glow. Talon watched as the hackles raised on the man's neck, demeanor changing instantly from relaxed to defensive.

"Who are you?!" he called out in alarm, stepping forward in front of his shaking wife. Talon slinked off the sofa almost lazily to his feet, allowing them to gaze his silhouette through another flash of lightning.

"It doesn't really matter, does it Mr. Crespin?" the man was spooked now, eyes flicking back and forth between Talon's murderous eyes and the dual swords on his back. The Mr. staggered back from him in fear, knocking against his wife.

"Please," he begged, softer now as his wife gripped his arm. "Take what you want, just leave me and my family alone." Yeesh. They always _begged_.

"There's only one thing I'm here for. But don't worry, I'll make it _quick_ ," Talon clarified darkly, reaching up slowly to unsheathe his blades.

" _No_!" Mrs. Crespin cried out again, clutching her silver purse and drawing her arms against her chest defensively; let her scream, there was no one who could help them.

" _Why_? We haven't done anything!" the Mr.'s voice trembled as he forced the question out. Talon's eyes glittered unnervingly against the night as he smiled. What an imbecilic question, Talon mused; because the Court demanded it. He didn't care about their charity rabbles or political ramblings about revolutionizing Gotham, but the Court did. The Crespin's campaign was decidedly over; politics are cutthroat. And so, he grinned to himself, was he.

Mrs. Crespin surprised him suddenly, though, by fumbling into her purse and quickly yanking out a small, silver pistol. Talon arched a half impressed brow as she pointed the shaking barrel towards him.

"Stay away from us, you... _monster_ ," she huffed, not sounding quite as brave as she probably wished. Her eyes were still wide with terror and adrenaline, and her feet were off balance. She'd probably never even shot the damn thing. Mr. Crespin stared at his wife in shock. Talon swayed humorously on the spot, almost daring her to pull the trigger. It would sting, since the barrel was aimed at his chest, but he'd laugh at her when it didn't kill him. His heart was beginning to race with excitement in an adrenaline rush of his own, not. He loved the anticipation in the kill, especially with raised stakes.

" _Mommy_?"

A chill crept into the room as Mr. and Mrs. Crespin froze over. All eyes, including the luminescant predator's, were drawn to where a small, sandy haired little boy rubbing his eyes in a choo-choo train onesie standing in the hallway. Seizing the sudden opportunity, Talon whisked himself behind the boy with all the speed of a superhuman and smiled wickedly in victory. In one smooth movement, he kneeled down and pressed a single blade against the small boy's throat before the child could even make a squeal of surprise.

"Put the gun back in your purse and slide it towards me. Then both of you get down on your knees," he commanded the couple carefully as the boy gasped and whimpered for his mother again.

"Please, not-... not my  _son_ ," the Mr. whispered helplessly, raising his hands in the air as he obeyed. The Mrs. choked on her own sob as she, too, stowed the gun away and sank down.

" _Daddy_ ," the child trembled, rigid with fear inside Dick's arms. A beat of silence passed, and a loud crack of thunder broke through the night sky with a bright flash of lightning. Tears were running down the Crespin's faces as they silently pleaded for their child's life.

"The Court of Owls has sentenced the Crespin family to death. Consider me your executioner." Talon's voice was cruel as the blade slid through the boy's neck. Mr. and Mrs. Crespin screamed as the their son slumped lifeless to the floor. Talon smiled, not even bothering to clean the blade before their screams were silenced permanently.

 

.............................

 

Dick jolted awake in a cold sweat with a painful, choked gasp. Hot tears were leaking down his cheeks, and his entire body was shuddering in terror and disgust. He could hear muffled groaning at his side before the bedside lamp was flicked on.

" _Jesus_ ," Jason swore, blinking against the light and rubbing his eyes tiredly like the little boy in Dick's memory. Bile rose in his throat, and Dick clawed himself down clumsily onto the floor and bolted into the restroom just in time. He emptied his stomach of it's contents and let himself shudder with repressed guilt and disgust.

"The sheets are  _drenched_ ," he heard Tim's sleepy, muffled whisper.

"He had a nightmare," came Jason's soft reply. Dick squeezed his eyes shut and let the sickness swallow him up whole.

"Fuck."

Dick was shivering, drenched with sweat and clinging onto the toilet for dear life when he heard the soft footfalls of his lovers pad over to him. The light to the bathroom flicked on over him and he could see the two men staring down at him in concern.

"N-no," Dick moaned pathetically, turning away so he didn't have to look back at them and their...pity.

"Hey," Jason murmured calmly, sinking down beside him and resting his back against the wall. Tim quietly mirrored his movements on Dick's other side and placed a comforting hand on Dick's bare back. He almost wanted to shrug it off, but god help him if he wasn't selfish enough to crave the small comfort. When Dick didn't respond, they tried again.

"Dick," Tim called out gently, pressing his forehead against Dick's shoulder. Dick swallowed.

"I'm fine," Dick lied, cringing to himself as he wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet. He closed the lid, but then paused, lost for both words and action as he tried desperately not to meet his lovers' eyes.

"You're not," Jason called him on it, frowning firmly.

"Fine, I'm not," Dick admitted, sliding his elbows to rest on the toilet and hiding his shamed face with his hands.

"You don't have to tell us about it if you don't want to," Tim stroked Dick's arm with his thumb, pressing a comforting kiss into Dick's shoulder. "Just don't push us away right now, okay? Not when you need us." Dick swallowed a heavy, burning lump in his throat and collapsed into sobs. He felt Jason scoot closer now, placing one leg on either side of Dick's body and wrapping his arms around Dick's torso, pulling him into a much,  _much_ needed embrace  against his warm skin. Then Dick cried for a long time.

Tim's fingers slid through his hair and along his neck in a soothing pattern, pressing a kiss here or there along his skin. Jason rocked side to side, and not one of them said a word for some time. In fact, apart from his own sobbing turning eventually into the occasional whimper or sniffle, there wasn't another sound to be heard. Just silence, and the scattered images of an innocent man and wife lying in their own blood feet away from their child, the echoes of their  _screams_ \- they were tormenting him. He'd repressed so many things as Talon; he'd sleep it off and forget it ever happened like...a cold blooded killer, like the assassin he was. Or _had_ been, at least. He should have known these ghosts would come back and haunt him with a vengeance. And god damn it, he deserved it. He choked as another sob escaped his lips.

'... _you monster!_ ' That's what she had called him. With a sickening realization, it hit him that he  _was_ a monster. He'd killed them all...he'd  _enjoyed_ it. He was sick.

"I- I killed a child," he admitted finally, heavy and numb against Jason's warm chest. Jason's brows knitted together into a dark frown and Tim's fingers stilled in Dick's hair. "I killed him in front of his parents. He was so scared, and...and there was so much _screaming_ ," Dick's eyes flicked back and forth quickly as he recalled the images.

"They weren't the only ones I killed that way," he continued, haunted as Jason and Tim listened. "I-...I would make it a game. Every time, just for fun. See if I could come up with a creative way to kill them." Tears leaked out of his eyes again as he spoke, unbidden and unpreventable. "Hell, I made it a game when I tried to kill  _you_ -" he pressed a weak finger into Jason's ribs, darkening the man's look even further. His stomach lurched with self-loathing and felt cold, even against Jason's warmth. What was he thinking? Did he think Dick was a monster, too? Did Tim? Dick couldn't bear to turn look at Tim's expression; he didn't want stoicism, or pity, or comfort. He just wanted to disappear or die.

"I am a monster."

Jason exchanged a glance with Tim before, to Dick's surprise, pulling him up to kiss his forehead.

"I can't say you didn't do awful things, Dick, because you did," Jason started, sending Dick's stomach crashing down to his toes and through the tile floor. " _But_ , you didn't exactly have a choice. You were tortured for years, it's...understandable that you were fucked up for a while."

"Understandable?!" Dick scoffed in a high pitch, pained as he recalled the face of a sandy haired little boy staring up at him in terror. "Do you think Ashton Crespin would be  _understanding_ if I just explained that a bunch of psychopaths butchered me into insanity until I slit his throat and cut up his mommy and daddy with a smile on my face?!" Jason and Tim both blanched in poorly hidden disgust. "Or that the hundreds of other innocents I murdered would forgive me if I told them I was too god damn  _weak_ and let them turn me into-... _into_ -" he couldn't say it. He didn't even want to think it. He closed his eyes and reached up to them as if trying to claw the damn eyes of his head.

"You aren't  _Talon_ anymore!" It was Tim's voice, now, shrill and almost pleading. Dick flinched. "You made the choice to leave that life behind, you made a choice to die rather than kill again," Tim was tugging Dick's face up and glaring meaningfully at him. "You could have killed me last year in that hotel room; you could have killed  _Jason_. You remember what you chose to do instead?" Dick squirmed, trying and failing to avoid the laser point intensity of Tim's pale blue eyes. "You chose to let us go...you chose the Court's wrath over killing us. You may have done some terrible things, and those people you  _did_ kill at the hotel...them, the Crespins, everyone you hurt, well..."

"They're dead," Jason cut in, finishing Tim's point curtly. "You're going to see their faces for a while; it's gonna hurt like hell. But if you're strong enough to fight the Court and leave Talon behind, then you can carry this. Make them your reason to keep _fighting_ ," Jason's voice rang with a determined clarity and fire that made his eyes light up. Dick's stomach was still coiled and heavy with knots and disgust, though, and Dick didn't know how to make Tim and Jason _see_ that He could never, ever make what he did right. But maybe bearing the weight of their deaths was at least a start. He did deserve the guilt, the pain, and devastation, after all; tenfold. Maybe that was just the price of the happiness he'd had with Tim and Jason in the last year. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to be able to forget their faces anymore. He shouldn't, either.

He let that truth sink in silently, and once again avoided his partners' eyes. He knew he'd find absolution and understanding, even encouragement from them, but...he wasn't sure he wanted it right now. He already  _knew_ he didn't deserve it.

"Hey," Tim cooed softly, lacing his fingers through Dick's. Dick grimaced with hesitation before returning the gentle squeeze and meeting Tim's eyes at last. They were everything Dick had pictured...and more, too; _kind_ to a fault. Dick's heart ached in his chest. "Stand up for a second with me," Tim urged, tugging on Dick's arm as he stood up. He didn't want to move, but since Jason decided to go with whatever Tim's plan was and stood up too, lifting Dick along the way, he didn't have much choice. Tim led him over to the sink and shifted so that Dick was standing completely in front of it. Dick shied away reluctantly, but Tim and Jason were at his back, preventing retreat.

"Look at yourself, Dick. Look at yourself and tell me if you see a monster." Dick whined pathetically, but with no real, other option, his eyes slowly rose up to meet his own. He choked when terrified, sea blue orbs stared back at him instead of cruel, yellow ones. He'd forgotten... the surgery had been the better half of a year ago. The machine in his heart creating the mutating enzymes had been unarmed and deactivated. It was still there, dead but not forgotten inside his chest since removing the damn thing would have required removing his whole damn heart. So there it sat in his chest, serving as a painful reminder, haunting him. But at least he didn't have the  _eyes_ anymore.

Moving on to other features now, he noticed his cheeks were drained of color and still streaked with dried tears. His hair was also matted and absolutely horrific. He blinked and hiccuped quietly, leaning forward for a closer look at his empty expression; there were heavy, puffy bags under his red rimmed eyes, dry, cracked lips from vomitting earlier, and he looked miserable and exhausted. Hell, he looked like a  _mess_. He was just about to turn away in shame when he caught sight of Jason and Tim smiling so sadly, yet so lovingly beside him in the reflection. He could feel their hands on his back and snaking slowly around his waist again. He closed his eyes weakly, accepting the comfort as if it were water in his dry, sandy desert. He could see Jason bend down to press a kiss into his neck, and felt the warmth of his lips when it happened. Tim nuzzled between Dick's shoulder blades and pecked his lips there for good measure.

"I don't know what you see," Tim murmured, "but I certainly don't see a monster."

"I see the same big blue eyes that shine when you want to binge pancakes at an ungodly hour in the morning," Jason added with a smirk. "I see the same arms that wrap around me at night because you're the biggest goddamn compulsive cuddler I have ever met. I see the same lips that crack wise ass jokes and get excited about going to the boardwalk or watching a sunset...or _rise_ for that matter, walking on the beach. I see the same innocent face of a man who loves with the whole capacity of his heart; I see it when it's smiling, laughing, bored, or crying. I see your face, Dick, and the last thing I can possibly think is 'monster.' All I can think of when I see your face is your huge fucking heart, because you've never been able to hide it. We've spent this whole year running away together, and all I can think is-... shit," Dick was tearing up again as he gazed into the reflection of Jason's face. Jason turned him around by the shoulders, and suddenly Dick could see Tim and Jason's  _real_ faces.

"I love you, Dick." Dick was crying again, and he bit the inside of his cheek trying to stop it.

"We both love you," Tim added, drawing closer carefully. Dick finally broke down again and slammed into both of them with a desperate embrace. He kissed first Jason, then Tim, each responding fully in kind. It didn't make the pain and the guilt disappear, but it wasn't impossible to bear with them there to lift it too.

"I love you, too," he sniffled wetly, wiping his eyes tiredly in earnest. His limbs felt so heavy, now; he could tell he was exhausted.

"We're here for you, Dick. You'll never have to be alone," Tim reassured, lacing their fingers together again reassuringly.

"Whenever you need us. Seriously," Jason urged, stroking Dick's cheek. Dick nodded weakly and sighed. Jason's expression altered slightly with a concerned frown.

"You should brush your teeth. Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning. Drink some water, too. Like, a lot. Then go immediately to bed," he demanded. Dick agreed with a single nod, and let himself be led out of the bathroom. Tim turned the light out behind them and Jason fetched him the glass, which he downed quickly. He was surprised how much the cool liquid made him feel better; fuller, less drained at least. Jason wiped his eyes with a wet paper towel and put the glass away quickly once Dick was finished. Tim had changed the sheets while they were in the kitchen, bless him, and Dick crawled and collapsed onto the clean fabric gratefully. Jason and Tim chuckled and crawled in on either side of him, wrapping their arms around him comfortingly. His eyes drooped close, and he fell asleep wrapped around Tim's small form with Jason's chest pressed firmly against his back.

........................

(Gotham City)

"Has there been no sign of him still, sir?" Alfred's worried voice pierced the air of the cave.

"No. And the street scum is starting to get bolder every night." Damian had collapsed into the computer chair and ripped off his black domino in frustration. Bats screeched in the darkness somewhere in the distance as the young boy pinched his nose. Alfred's already pained eyes softened, and cast away. The boy looked so much like his father when he did that. His father, who was now missing for almost three whole weeks, had vanished into thin air after investigating a murder of a county judge. Only a single mask of an Owl had been left at the crime scene. It was obvious that the Court of Owls had returned. What was uncertain was _how_ , and if Batman was even still alive.

Damian didn't know much about the Court, or the Talons for that matter; the bodies had all been destroyed after their deaths, and the sewer base long abandoned. The Court had all but disappeared during the Batman's victory, leaving nothing substantial behind. Now they had nowhere to start from.

"If I may, sir," Alfred suggested quietly.

"Go on, Pennyworth," Damian waved hollowly.

"If you recall, Master Bruce worked with a former Talon to infiltrate the Court originally. Perhaps if you located him now, he may be of some assistance." Damian arched his brows at the old man.

"You're only just suggesting this  _now_?" Damian blinked, astounded. Alfred rolled his eyes with a weary sigh.

"There is the tiny problem of your father banishing them from ever returning to Gotham, so I decided to wait until last resort. I was, after all, told by you that you had everything...'under control.'" Damian scowled openly and stood to his feet.

"Beside the point, Pennyworth. Moreover, you mentioned  _they_?" he snapped, sliding his domino back onto his face tirelessly.

"Ah, yes. Master Grayson travels with two partners: the first is an information broker called Tim Drake, former alias Tim Jackson. He discovered your father's identity some years ago and buried himself in solitary at Arkham for protection," Alfred spouted mechanically, though an odd hint of a smile played at his lips.

"An assassin and an information dealer...who knows our identities," Damian recited sourly at the fact, crossing his arms. "And my father let them  _leave_?"

"Oh, that's not all," Alfred smirked, clasping his hands behind his back and squaring his shoulders. This should be entertaining. "The second companion is none other than the Red Hood."

"You're  _joking_ ," Damian's jaw dropped inelegantly.

"Completely serious, sir. You see know why I hesitated to get them involved?" Alfred replied, lips pursed tersely.

"...I suppose," Damian grumbled grudgingly. "Dragging them back to Gotham could be disastrous. Hood might try and take control of Gotham again, Drake could ruin us with that information, and the  _Talon_ -" Damian hissed, trailing off irritably.

"It's a calculated risk, if anything sir. But I strongly suggest it; they're the only ones with any sort of inside knowledge about the Owls. Besides, you could probably use an extra few experienced hands before Crime Alley rears its head up in Batman's absence," Alfred reasoned.

"You make a convincing point."


	2. A Tipsy Tease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys visit a club to cheer Dick up, and Tim gets frisky. Shameless porn ahead, and a plot kickstarter at the end. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, and happy update!
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this chapter. I sure had fun writing it, even though it took over 3 solid different re-writes until I was satisfied. Also, hope you guys liked lightweight, horny drunk Tim! It's been a head canon of mine for a long time. And I know it was only two gulps of the drink, but if you're anything like me (also a mega lightweight), I'm buzzing after like, two shots. I also thought you guys would enjoy the boys having a little bit of fun after re-introducing them with angst last chapter. Also, I gave Tim a new nickname; he couldn't be Baby bird since Robin wasn't a thing, so I just shortened it to Baby. That way it's Red, Blue (after Dick got his eyes back), and Baby which is still pretty close to their regular characters. Anyway, let me know what you guys think below in the comments, I always love hearing your thoughts!
> 
>  
> 
> Much love, and I hope you guys enjoy <3

There's something about the club atmosphere that always managed to seduce and ensnare its patrons like a sultry siren's song. The heavy bass was like a drug in their very blood as it thrummed against the manic melody and neon lights. The air was hot and heavy against their skin, and the mass of dancers around them ebbed and swayed like an ocean of desire to every beat.

It had been a hybrid idea of Tim and Jason's.

"I wanna do something for him tonight," Tim had said. "You know, get him out of the house and make him feel a little better."

"Let's take him dancing, then," Jason had replied with something of a smirk. Oh, boy. Tim had been reluctant at first, having never danced at a club or otherwise. He knew Dick _loved_ dancing, though; Jason made it clear how memorable the  _last_  time they'd been in a club had been. Tim hadn't been there for that particular event, but he had vivid descriptions from his partners letting him fantasize about it often. But the day dreams utterly failed to give the man justice, because the way Dick was flaunting his body, swaying and grinding and pulling Tim and Jason against him was truly almost an out of body kind of experience.

Jason had already tapped out by the time Tim had begged for a break. Dick was still going strong, killing it on the floor when he (grudgingly) agreed to release Tim. Not, however, before he could steal one last hungry kiss that stole Tim's breath away and left him utterly starstruck.

" _Unfair_ ," Tim gasped lightly, winded as Dick sent him away with a final, teasing wink. He all but collapsed onto the stool next to Jason, lightheaded even though he was completely sober (due to those damning black exes on his hands). Jason was nursing a dark, sweet smelling substance on the rocks with an amused grin as Tim caught his breath.

"Someone looks hot and bothered," he remarked with an interested quirk of his brow. "It looks like Dick barely took mercy on you." Tim pinkened around his cheeks, which was thankfully not visible in the dimness of the club. He had that right; Tim could still feel the ghosts of Dick's hands caressing his thighs as the music continued to play.

"He's _insatiable_ , Jason. Jesus Christ, he's eating this up," Tim fanned himself to cool off as he gestured back to their partner. Dick, by the way, was now currently engaged in a provocative display, pressed front to back with a rather thrilled, but tipsy looking brunette with an eye brow piercing. Poor thing, he pitied almost jealously as Dick moved in sync with the music; Eye-Brow was no match for Dick's seductive ways, and was little more than a victim fallen prey to the man's antics. But oh, how Tim's mouth watered just watching Dick have his way. Jason seemed to appreciate the sight, too, if the familiar glint in his eyes was anything to go by.

"So was I right, or was I _hella_ right, then?" He smirked, turning back to Tim and taking a swig of his liquor. Tim's throat constricted dryly as a thirst of his own washed over him.

" _Hella_ , without a doubt," Tim replied earnestly, despite eyeing Jason's glass. Tired, turned on, and thirsty as he was in this loud, intoxicating place, Tim was enjoying himself. They all were, but none more-so than Dick himself; He was something of his old element here. And really, if it meant seeing the life and energy back in Dick's eyes again, too, it was so worth it all. Especially if they had a happy ending tonight, Tim reminded himself hopefully, twitching slightly in his pants at the thought.

"You want a drink?" Jason grinned deviously all of a sudden as he subtly tilted his glass toward Tim. Tim's eyes widened skeptically and darted nervously to where the bartender lingered across the way, back turned and facing another customer. Tim returned his gaze back to Jason in hesitation; damn Jason and his observance and temptation. But god, Tim was so  _parched_.

"Are you sure?" It was nerve-wracking to openly break the law like this; he didn't wanna get them thrown out. Dick, especially, he thought as he fingered the black marks on the back of his hands. But there was a rebellious fire in his belly as Jason slid the glass in his hands, and he decidedly tipped the liquid back and took two swift gulps before returning it to its rightful owner.

Tim grimaced in disgust, trying and failing not to cough as the disgusting, bitter taste ravaged his tongue. Jason snorted with laughter and threw his head back.

" _Ew_ ," Tim shuddered, suffering visibly as the bitterness turned into a soft burn in his esophagus.

"So whiskey isn't your thing," Jason noted mildly before draining the last of his glass with an appreciative hiss. "We'll try something smoother next time," he promised.

"Can I maybe just have a soda, or water?" Tim made a face, earning a shit eating grin as Jason placated him and waved the bartender over to place the order. And thank Christ for it, it felt so good to drink something and soothe his throat. The glass was completely empty in seconds, and Tim slammed it urgently back on the bar.

"Please, one more," he begged, with a humorous shrug from the bartender, who quickly refilled the glass. This one he drank more slowly, determined to try and make it last another minute or two.

"Shit, he really _didn't_ take any mercy on you out there, huh? You act like you haven't had a drink in days," Jason furrowed his brows with concern. Tim shrugged at him from behind the rim of the cup.

"Well, this is my first time out dancing in, well... ever. I wasn't quite prepared for him to just...not stop," Tim chuckled, eyeing their lover speculatively once again. Dick was still grinding wantonly against Eyebrow Ring, and Eyebrow was panting with desire now as Dick's expert hands splayed across their hips. The display was almost obscene, and if it didn't turn Tim on so much, he'd probably be jealous. Jason was ogling the scene as well, and the glint he'd recognized from earlier was now a full, heated expression focused on the erotic picture.

Fuck, Tim didn't know if it was that look, Dick's dirty dancing, or the alcohol he'd consumed that was starting to blur his inhibitions, but whatever it was made the muscles in his lower body heat and tighten up deliciously in want.

"He seems to be enjoying flaunting himself out there," Tim's lips quirked with a small smile, drawing Jason's attention back. "And I think you _like_  it." The subsequent grin on Jay's face was practically an admission of guilt.

"I think he's just trying to make us jealous. Look," Jason gestured. Tim glanced back just in time to see Dick peering darkly up at them in the heat of the moment, over the heavy bass. When he was caught sneaking the look, though, a suggestive smirk graced his face before he glanced purposefully away, full attention back on Eyebrow Piercing. Tim's jaw dropped, eyes wide and scandalized. So Dick  _was_ just putting on a show; what a jealous lover he was. Tim ruffled his own hair in exasperation and shook his head with a light chuckle.

"See?" Jason insisted, leaning back on his elbows against the bar. Mm. The position made his shirt stretch revealingly over the expanse of his torso, outlining his strong pectorals and defined abdomen. Tim hummed, buzzing with pleasure as he praised the sight and thanked the gods that Jason decided to wear such a tight shirt. The alcohol was definitely affecting him, he decided as he impulsively traced his fingers along Jason's chest with his free hand. Jason arched an interested brow at him in turn.

"Yeah, I saw," Tim muttered, tracing a shapeless pattern into his ribs. "I like his little game, but we could beat him at it if we wanted," Tim hinted softly, leaning in closer towards Jason hungrily. Jason's eyes darkened and he shifted visibly with excitement.

"I like your thinking, kid. What do you suggest?" He was breathless, it sounded, and Tim smiled. He drained the rest of his water and clanked the glass gracelessly onto the counter. He spared a lasting glance at Dick and when he caught the man's eyes, he winked suggestively and turned away as he tugged against Jason's belt loops.

"I don't think you've had a smoke break in a while. I think there's a back alley, if you need one," Tim hinted huskily.

"Oh my god, hell yes," Jason gleamed visibly with excitement, stealing a kiss as they hopped to their feet. Jason dropped a few bills down on the counter for the tender, and Tim almost dragged Jason through the crowd towards the back. He hoped Dick was watching them, because if this was a game, Tim had just won.

.....

"Oh, _fuck_ ,"Jason moaned, back pressed against the brick wall as Tim swallowed him down eagerly. As soon as they were out the back door, Tim had attacked him hungrily and all but devoured him with kisses as they hid on the other side of the dumpster. Tim had made quick work of Jason's jeans and tugged them down to his knees. He made a show, too, of kneeling down and mouthing at him through his underwear until his already semi-erected cock hardened completely.

Tim tore the boxers down next with his teeth. Now, he was stroking and lavishing the man with an eager tongue, and moaning himself as Jason twisted his fingers into his hair.

"Yeah, baby, just like that. _Fuck_ ," Jason babbled as Tim worked his lips and sucked him in lovingly. Jason's hips rutted of their own accord, and Tim felt Jason's guiding hand slide down and press against his neck in need. It set a hot fire to Tim's nerves, and  he all but whined as Jason stroked him encouragingly.

Jason startled, however, when they heard the muted music blast as someone opened the back door. Tim swallowed and smirked around Jason's girth, hoping beyond hope that it was who he thought it was. He wasn't about to stop if it wasn't, though, so he continued his task and regained Jason's unwavering attention by swirling his tongue in a trick that Dick had taught him. Jason keened, arching his back against the bricks, and that's when Dick's face poked his head around to peer at them in their hiding spot.

Curious blue eyes darkened, and Dick's mouth fell agape with unquestioning desire when he saw them.

"Look who's finally paying attention to us," Jason's taunt was breathy and half cocked since he was fairly distracted by Tim's bobbing head.

"You two..." Dick trailed off with a speechless chuckle. "I was just having a little fun," he defended himself weakly, daring to take a hopeful step forward.

"So are we," Jason managed to report before gasping as Tim performed another wicked trick with his tongue. Tim hummed and bobbed happily a few times more before pulling off with a light _pop_ and turning to stare gloatingly at Dick.

"You can join if you apologize for teasing us," he smirked, nuzzling his head against Jason's toned thigh. Dick pouted at him.

"Or you can watch, whatever you'd prefer," Tim shrugged nonchalantly, turning to press a sloppy, wet kiss against the flesh of Jason's groin. Said man groaned in appreciation, making Dick emit a desperate, frustrated noise. A beat later, and the seemingly indecisive Dick squared his shoulders and crossed the remaining distance, claiming Jason's mouth for his own in a haughty display. Tim watched them devour each other from his position, and it was his turn to pout when Jason drank it in like a traitor.

When Dick pulled apart, he was smirking down darkly at Tim, sending a jolt straight to his cock.

"I'm not apologizing for anything, Baby," he crooned boldly, kneeling down beside Tim and stroking his swollen lips. Tim shivered and immediately realized he was an idiot for thinking he'd won; Dick was, after all, the expert. The student had not yet surpassed the master. "I turned you on so bad, you needed to fuck in a back alley. I think, if anything, you should apologize for starting without me," he whispered, lips centimeters apart from Tim's own. Tim gasped wantonly, wildly turned on, but not willing to yield the battle just yet.

"Not a chance," Tim echoed Dick's own words, heart thudding in his chest eagerly. Dick was taking charge tonight in a way that reminded him of stark yellow eyes in a dark hotel room. It turned him on ridiculously.

"I am glad it got your attention, though," Tim continued, softly now. "You were driving me fucking crazy in there. I wanted you so bad," Tim admitted, earning a fond glaze of surprise appreciation in Dick's dark, blue eyes. Dick relented and pressed a rewarding kiss into Tim's lips, parting them wetly with desire.

Jason, who'd been quietly watching them until now, groaned, taking himself in hand at the sight of them and palming himself to ease his need. "Now that you two have kissed and made up, can you help a man out? I'm dying here," he pleaded. Dick chuckled and pulled away from Tim reluctantly.

"Sorry, Jay. You know we'll take care of you," Dick promised in that smooth, sultry voice of his. He glanced at Tim patiently, and as if that were his cue, Tim leaned in again, taking the lead as they both pressed their mouths on the man's waiting cock. Tim was teasing Jason at the tip, swirling his tongue gently and bobbing his head while Dick was paying special, lavish attention to Jason's balls at the base. Tim pressed eagerly down Jason's throbbing shaft, and Jason rewarded them both with a garbled moan and one hand gripping each of their heads in his own encouraging enjoyment. Within moments, his breathing became hitched and ragged as his orgasm started to build. Dick pulled away now as Tim pressed forward, letting Jason fuck his mouth blindly. With a final moan, he bucked up and threw his head back, spilling himself down Tim's eager throat.

Dick watched with heated desire as Tim pulled away, crashing in to claim his lips the moment he was free. As Jason cleaned himself up, Dick wasted no time pulling Tim and himself stumbling up to their feet and pressing him into the bricks, much like Tim had previously done to Jason.

"You were so hot, sucking his dick just like I taught you," Dick murmured softly against his neck before sucking the skin there emphatically. Tim inhaled a sharp hiss of pleasure as Dick moved to bite his shoulder now. "You still want me, Baby?" He whispered, pressing his leg between Tim's and rutting dryly. Tim whined at this point and nodded eagerly, grinding his own hips up in want.

"Here, hang on-" Jason interjected, having just clasped his pants back on. He pulled a small pack of lubricant from his back pocket and grinned as he slid it into Dick's hand. Tim blinked in surprise at his lover, who shrugged obligingly.

"I figured we might need it...just in case," Jason grinned sheepishly. 

"Not arguing that," Dick replied breathily, dragging Jason in with one hand for a thankful, ravaging kiss before releasing him and turning his attention back to Tim ravenously. Tim's skin was heated now, and he was more than willing to start unfastening their jeans hastily as Dick ripped open the package.

Tim turned to face the wall, planting his hands against the brick as Dick's slick fingers went to work. Two fingers penetrated him quickly, and he groaned, pressing back on them as Dick stretched him. The third pressed in swift succession, and Tim's eyes were shut, lips quivering in silent pleasure until he was practically aching for the man to fill him. Tim keened wordlessly as the seconds passed, arching his back with need until Dick finally pulled his fingers away. Tim hummed in disappointment at their absence, but that pretty much vanished when he felt the tip of a slick shaft press against him.

"Tell me you want me, Baby," Dick teased, caressing his fingers down and around Tim's hips until they were ghosting over Tim's own leaking cock. Tim whimpered against the grit of the wall and nodded fanatically.

"Please, Dick, I want you so bad," he obliged, widening his stance and arching back as if to prove his point. That seemed to be the catalyst that pushed Dick over the edge and straight into the tight ring of muscle that was Tim's waiting entrance. He was fully sheathed within a moment, and Tim cried out loudly with unabashed pleasure as Dick clapped against him.

"Jesus," Jason swore beside them, turning his eyes towards the heavens with renewed desire staining his voice. Dick snorted softly into Tim's shoulder with distracted amusement.

"Looks like he's enjoying our little show," Dick cooed softly in Tim's ear, making Tim shiver as Dick continued to move inside him.

"He's just jealous," Tim laughed shakily before whining and screwing his eyes shut when Dick pounded his breath away, jerking him off in sync and overloading him with sensation.

"Jealous? Hardly," he chuckled. "I mean, shit, this is better than any porn," Jason remarked, drinking them in appreciatively as he dishes out a cigarette from his pocket. Tim vehemently agreed as Dick fucked wails of pleasure from Tim's lips now. Dick was brushing against that sweet bundle of nerves with every stroke, and Tim's muscles started to coil deep inside him in response. He could feel himself start to build as Dick stroked and filled him rhythmically with every move. It was agonizing and fucking mouthwatering, and Tim pleaded mindlessly as his body sang to Dick's merciless rhythm.

"Dick,  _please_ , god, I'm gonna- I want-  _shit_ ," Tim sobbed as Dick obligingly pushed him over into sweet release. He moaned with ecstatic relief against the rough bricks. Dick was making noises if his own now; he was almost finished, too. He planted both hands on Tim's hips for a better grip and rode him until he was shaking and quivering inside of Tim with his own orgasm. Jason blew a huff of smoke out with a sigh of voyeuristic gratitude at the sight and sounds as he smoked through his cigarette. Tim had half a mind to snag one from the man for his own post coital purposes.

After a moment of gathering themselves slowly back together, Dick pulled out of Tim quickly and dried himself off with his own boxers. He  grimaced in mild distaste (he hated soiling his clothes) as he stowed himself away, avg Tim mirrored his actions quickly. He flushed, however, as Dick and Jason both smirked at him as he fastened the button on his pants.

"What?" Tim chirped shyly.

"We need to do this more often," Jason spoke first, sucking in a last drag of the menthol before snuffing it out against the wall.

"What, dance or fuck in a back alley? I mean I'm totally cool with both, but please clarify for the class," Dick teased, earning an eye roll from Jason.

"Fine, both," he scoffed lightly. "And we need to start upping Tim's drinking game, too; one sip of Jameson and then he's blowing me by a dumpster."

"You snuck him _liqour_?" Dick scolded with a humored laugh. Tim chewed his lip guiltily and blushed. 

"Maybe. Still, I think we can both agree that either he's too lightweight, or just a really horny drinker. Either way, I want to explore that avenue," Jason grinned, winking suggestively at Tim. Dick laughed and shook his head.

"You're an ass. Can we go home now? I'd love a shower," Tim grumbled sheepishly. Jason and Dick both slid their arms around him, Jason over his shoulders and Dick's around his waist, before they agreed that home sounded like a good idea.

...

The door to their hotel room swung open into the darkness, and the three men giggled, yes, _giggled_  at each other like schoolboy lovers. The night was winding down, and a comfortable, tired haze was creeping over them. Tim stretched and yawned languidly, thinking only of the hot shower calling his name. He heard Jason fumbling for the lamp as Dick collapsed onto the bed with a contented sigh. Tim had already started making his way to the bathroom when the light flicked on and illuminated the green walls. Everything was as it should be, until he looked toward the felt chair in the corner.

"Jesus  _Christ_ ," he jumped, startled. Immediately, Dick and Jason's attention snapped toward the chair with the speed and urgency of an ex assassin and a vigilante. There on the seat, poised aristocratically, sat an eerily still, dark haired, green eyed, black clad  _child_. He was maybe 10 or 11, certainly pre-pubescent by the looks of him, and there was something....oddly familiar about the shape of his face, and the crease of his brow. His arms were crossed expectantly in the dead silence, as the three of them were too shocked to speak. How had this _child_ caught _them_ off guard?

"Evening," he greeted coolly, dropping his arms in favor of folding his hands far too calmly over his lap. Tim hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.

"Who...are you?" Tim asked cautiously, rooted to the spot. The boy smirked.

"For someone as clever I'm told, I thought you would have figured it out by now," he snarked, setting Tim's blood to boil in fury and freeze like ice with uncertainty. Hold on, no way. This kid couldn't know him, could he? Let alone barge in completely undetected and taunt three of the most dangerous men in the world. Yet oddly, here he was, and Tim was at a loss for the first time in his life.

He was so familiar, yet a complete stranger to him. The way he spoke was precise and calculated; no normal ten year old held himself with such regard or such strategic confidence. His black get up was simple and hid any clues, giving nothing away. And why was that glare so unnerving, so... intimidating? It was the kind of glare that didn't belong on such a small face. It reminded him of someone... of a certain caped crusader he knew in the darkness of Gotham. But this was no Batman, this was just a... _kid_. Still, child or not, he was an unknown player who claimed to know who he was, even actively taunted him for it; he couldn't be allowed the benefit of the doubt. This boy was dangerous.

"Ok, listen you little cretin. Now I don't know if you realize just who you've barged in on, so let me give you a word of warning. We're dangerous men, highly trained and extremely edgy at the moment. You're wasting our time and limited patience, so if you want to make it out tonight, I'd start talking." The boy threw him a haughty expression and even dared to laugh as he glanced down his nose at the said men.

"You're hardly in a position to make threats," he mocked, leaning forward and revealing a silver sword glinting at his back. This kid was just full of surprises. "You're caught off your guard and I came _well_ prepared, Mr. Drake. My name, of course, is Damian Wayne. And as for your 'most dangerous' associates; Jason Todd, aka the Red Hood, and Dick Grayson, previously known as the washed up assassin Talon? Well, I've read everything there is to know, including your many, many weaknesses . If you don't want me to ruin your lives here and now, then I suggest you sit down and listen up."

A chill swept through the room, and the three men exchanged stared in silent shock. No fucking way. This is worse than Tim thought. _So much worse._


	3. Threats and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian gives the 411 on the situation and all cards are revealed. Alfred even makes a cameo! Decisions must be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, and happy update!!
> 
> Damian and Alfred get some screen time in this chapter, and hopefully their dynamic was executed well. I wanted to stay true to his jerkiness and to paint Alfred as the patronizing saint he is.
> 
> Also I'm happy to announce that this is my first chapter with my new beta reader Team_Abstract, and I wanted to send a HUGE shout out, because your contribution and help have been absolutely incredible. Thank you so much.
> 
> On behalf of us both, please enjoy, and let us know what you think in the comments below.

  
"Wayne? As in, what, Bruce Wayne?" Jason scoffed, breaking the stone cold silence in the room. Damian and Tim, who'd been locked into a fiery exchange, both whipped their stares to him; one in a fury, and the other in...fear? Why were Tim's eyes wide like that?

"Of course. Who else, genius?" the boy sniped back proudly, cocking his chin haughtily.

"Last I checked, Wayne didn't have any kids. Even if he did, why would his spoiled brat have a reason to seek us out?" Jason continued icily, crossing his arms.

Annoyed, Damian scoffed and glared expectantly at him. Jason furrowed his brows and sneered back. The fuck did the boy want him to say? That's when the boy's face morphed from condescension to one of utter surprise. He turned back toward Tim in his chair with disbelief written on his very young face.

"You didn't tell them?" This notion clearly entertained him.

Tim was noticeably pale, and squirming on the spot. Jason frowned and exchanged a puzzled glance with Dick. Dick shrugged, just as lost as Jason himself, apparently. Jason's insides clenched immediately in unease. He didn't like where this was headed. Tim had kept secrets from them before, but this one was giving him a bad feeling.

"We put that life behind us. They never asked, so I never told," Tim fired back, hotly. And if you are who you say you are, then why would you risk exposing—"

"Tim," Jason cut in warningly, drawing back the attention. He didn't miss the flicker of hesitation in Tim before their eyes met. "Who is this kid? Really?"

Damian was rolling his eyes and scoffing so hard, that for a moment, there was a slight drop in his guard. He could see Dick twitch on the bed, as if physically restraining himself from launching at the boy. So he'd noticed it, too, then.

"I...I don't know," Tim admitted earnestly. His baby blues were wide and pleading. It wasn't the look Tim wore when he was lying.

"Then what the hell is he talking about?" Jason inquired, glaring in distrust at Damian. The boy met his stare and glared back, defiant. Tim seemed to shrink, wincing uncomfortably.

"Well. He's...more or less claiming to be Batman's...son." He fumbled with the words even as he admitted them. Jason's brows shot up in shock.

"Wait, Bruce Wayne—"

"Is Batman, yes," Damian interrupted impatiently. "Or was. At this rate, he'll already be dead if you three don't listen," he seethed.

Jason's head was spinning now. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Batman was Bruce Wayne. Batman was....dead? Bruce Wayne was—wait.

"What?" Tim barked out in alarm. Jason felt light headed now, and had to sink onto the bed where Dick sat, rigid and silent as he observed.

"He went missing three weeks ago. At first, I assumed he'd just gone on a mission for a few days, as he is wont to do . But he's never been gone this long before. I retraced his steps to his last known location, and it turns out he'd been investigating a murder." Damian scooted forward on the seat and reached into his robes idly for something. The three men stiffened immediately, bringing a smirk to the child's lips.

"Twitchy, are we? Relax," he crooned condescendingly as he pulled an item from the folds. There was a sharp gasp. Jason and Tim turned to see Dick flinching away in cold terror. Damian blinked, tilting his head curiously as the white mask in his hand gleamed in the dull lamplight.

"Clearly you recognize it," Damian taunted, shoving the mask towards Dick like the little demon he was. Dick recoiled and Jason snarled at the brat as he snatched the mask right out of his hand. Jason recognized it, too. He'd seen the Court members wearing masks like these during the siege last year. He felt Dick trembling quietly beside him. He looked up to see Dick staring down at the mask scathingly . Jason felt his heart thaw out of its cold shock in favor of sending a dull, aching pang throughout his chest. His lover was panicking at the sight, and he had to get to the bottom of this.

"How did you get this? Did the court take Bru—Batman?" Jason corrected himself with a silent curse. He couldn't think of that idiot Wayne, ultimate rich fuckboy of Gotham, behind that cowl. It wasn't right, it...it made his skin crawl for some reason.

"I don't know," Damian admitted begrudgingly. "That's what I was hoping your...friend there could tell me." The distaste in his voice was palpable, reflecting in his acid green eyes as he stared down his nose at Dick. Jason scowled at the demeaning expression and tossed the mask back forcefully. The brat seemed to catch it with ease, which frankly just pissed Jason off even more.

"Sorry. Can't help you. If Batman got himself into this mess, he can get himself out," Jason retorted firmly. Damian's eyes flashed with poisonous anger, and Dick visibly relaxed. Tim, however, frowned and dropped his jaw in disapproval.

"You can't mean that," Tim interjected, stepping forward. "He helped us, he's the whole reason we got away from the Court. We can't just leave him to die," Tim countered, gesturing spiritedly.

"How do we know this brat is even telling the truth? You said yourself you didn't know if he actually is Wayne's—...Batman's kid. What if he's just another Talon trainee from the Court sent to lure us in and finish us off?" Jason challenged. This stopped Tim in his tracks as all eyes turned to Damian, questioningly.

"We'd already be dead if he were a Talon." Dick's voice was ghostly as he spoke for the first time in the whole conversation. "He's around the right age for a new recruit, but he would have killed us the moment we walked in; he had the perfect opportunity." Jason grimaced at the man's words in chilled disgust.

"Quite right. You idiots just waltzed right in without—"

"Okay," Tim cut the boy off sourly, earning a glare of disdain. "So we can agree he's probably not Talon. But that doesn't explain how Bruce Wayne magically just hid a child away for eight years—"

"Ten, Drake," Damian snapped irritably, which Tim ignored.

"—My point being that we still can't trust you," Tim spat angrily. "We don't know anything about you, and unless you can verify your story right here and now, then I will personally let Jason shoot you."

"With what, Drake?" Damian sneered triumphantly as he reached below the chair cushion to pull out Jason's .45. It was the one he kept in the nightstand, he realized. The kid had searched the room. And from the way Damian handled the weapon, he was obviously familiar enough with firearms (an alarming thought in itself). Not to mention that it was Jason's firearm, which made his lip twitch. Tim seemed to freeze at the sight as Damian set the gun down on the arm of the chair.

If that was the gun he kept in the nightstand beside the bed, had he gotten to the one between the mattress and box spring?

"I also have Grayson's swords hidden away—which, by the way, should not be kept under the bed, you animal," Damian scoffed in disgust of his own as he rolled his eyes. Dick's brows, usually elegant in their display, furrowed in anger at the verbal slap. Jason, meanwhile, was busy checking his inventory: one gun still stowed away between the mattresses (maybe), and the trusty dagger stowed away in his own boot. But a knife would be useless if this brat decided to use the .45 against them.

"Fine, you made your point," Tim said quietly, crossing his arms. "But mine still stands. If you want our help at all, you need to prove who you are, right fucking now." Damian rolled his eyes and audibly before yanking yet another item out of his black uniform. This time, it was what looked like a communicator. The boy pressed a button and the room fell silent as the device beeped quietly.

"Master Damian?" All jaws dropped when they recognized the voice. Damian smirked at them as he spoke back.

"Pennyworth, say hello to our friends," he replied cattily, turning the screen to face the three men. There was Alfred, seated in the cave.

"Greetings and salutations, gentlemen. It is good to see you all," the smile on the old man's face wasn't entirely forced, but no one missed the heavy sigh that followed. "I do wish, however, that it were not under such urgent circumstances."

"Alfred, is this kid for real? He says he's Bruce's son." Leave it to Tim to get straight down to business. It made Jason want to smile...almost.

"Unfortunately, he tells the truth, I'm afraid," Alfred nodded curtly. (Damian sneered like a giant, gloating toddler.) "As it turns out, Miss al Ghul conceived many years ago and hid the boy away until recently. In fact, I do believe she dropped him off the night you three left Gotham."

"Hang on, you don't mean Talia?" Jason gaped in surprise, flicking his eyes up to Damian's proud face and conjuring up a mental image of the woman for comparison. Those lethal green eyes, the sharp contours of her brows and nose, even the way she sneered her lips—

"Holy shit," he whistled in awe. "Well, that explains the attitude." With her figure though -with which, he privately smirked to himself, Jason was, heh...   _intimately_ familiar- he would never have guessed she'd had a kid.

"Indeed," Alfred nodded curtly. "We confirmed with a paternity test. He's been living here in Gotham—under careful supervision, of course— until recently when Master Bruce disappeared."

"Ah...so he wasn't lying," Tim sounded disappointed even as the words left his lips.

"He rarely does; he's far too boistrous in his convictions, and sharpens truth like a weapon."

"Pennyworth!" Damian snapped irritably, tearing the screen away from the men in favor of barking at the man face to face.

"Yes, sir?" the butler replied innocently. Jason snorted appreciatively.

"Enough with you, you indulgent laggard. Now show them the photographs of the crime scene," Damian ordered, making Jason's skin crawl at the utter condescension.

"Of course, sir, what was I thinking in small talking our allies? That never served to gain trust, anyway. Silly me," Alfred commented dryly. Oh, how Jason wished he could have seen the screen when the old man dished that out. But the outrage in Damian's eyes was more than enough to sate his satisfaction.

"Here we go, sir," Alfred chirpped before Damian could spout anything back. Damian's lips thinned in obvious anger, but he chose to remain silent as he flipped the screen back towards the men with a thrust of his arm.

"Jesus," Tim swore. Dick made grim, nauseated expression beside him, and Jason craned his neck forward for a better look. It was a lewd picture: a portly, middle aged man with a salt-and-pepper goatee and a receding hairline stared up at them lifelessly, blood dripping down his chin. That was nothing, however, compared to the gore that was previously his torso, and the pool of thick bodily fluids surrounding him.

"His name is Waylon Kane, previous corporate affiliate of Gotham's First National Bank. Cause of death, as you can see, is the multiple gunshot wounds into his chest. No murder weapon found, no defensive wounds, and no known enemies. But the mask that Master Damian brought to you was found at the scene with his personal effects. Which leads us to believe, of course, that—"

"He was a member," Dick's haunted whisper voiced the room's suspicions before Alfred could even finish speaking them. Dick’s knees were tucked against his chest, and his arms wrapped around himself protectively. Jason and Tim reacted instantly and crawled over the bed to him. Dick winced as they drew near, but then leaned into their comforting touches against his arms. Damian pretended to gag at them with an annoyed expression.

"He funded the laboratory experiments and was one of the members who oversaw my...development as Talon," Dick continued reluctantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the dead man's gray face. Jason's hand clenched involuntarily and Tim shuddered.

"Excellent, that's a start," Damian chimed in eagerly, scooting forward. Jason frowned in disapproval at him; jeez, this kid had no empathy at all. "Who else can you name? I'd like to start by hunting them down and finding out what they can tell us about Kane's death, and where the hell they took my father."

"Woah, woah, kid, hold up," Jason interrupted, standing and towering over the child. Damian stood too, not one to be intimidated easily. "We haven't agreed to anything yet, short stack."

"Well make up your minds, already," Damian shot back with a scowl. "Because the more time we waste, the more Gotham will burn. The power vacuum you left behind was bad enough; it took six months to sort out. Now that Batman's gone too, Gotham may as well be dead on her feet."

Jason froze in surprise. He figured there'd be a grab for power after the Red Hood's departure, but a full blown power vacuum? Six months? Fuck. Leave it to Batman to fuck up the infrastructure. His pulse was pounding in his temple and he could feel his blood pressure rising. Fuck Bruce Wayne and his bullshit bureaucracy, fucking up his city.

"Let us think about it," Tim reasoned quietly, still on the bed, doing his best to comfort Dick. Damian sneered his lips in annoyance.

"The longer we delay, the more likely it is that Gotham will fall!"

"Master Damian, I think it wise to give them time to talk it over. We're asking them to put themselves at risk for the man who banished them. A little consideration and a gesture of good will goes a long way," Alfred's voice interjected from the comm. A swarm of relief and maybe even a little fondness swelled in his chest. Bless that butler.

"Fine," Damian agreed grudgingly. "I'll contact you later, Pennyworth. We're done here," he snapped, turning off the device before Alfred could even respond.

"You have 24 hours. I'll return here this time tomorrow, and you better have an answer." Damian's eyes flickered eerily in a clear threat. Jason snorted and rolled his eyes.

"And you'd better get the hell out of our room," Jason retorted, pointing none too subtly at the door. And leave the gun. " Damian rolled his eyes, but ended up complying anyway. Just before he left, he turned to Dick, glowering as he crossed his arms.

"Your swords are tucked away in the closet, Talon. Try not to step on them, will you?" he taunted before whisking himself out the hotel door, gone at last. Dick made a frustrated noise as the door swung shut, and his head fell into his shaking hands.

"I can't—" he wheezed, shaking his head. "I can't go back there."

"You don't have to," Tim cooed gently, stroking Dick’s arm soothingly. Jason sighed heavily in frustration and ruffled his hair in exasperation.

"That asshole Kane is dead, Dick. You don't have to be afraid of him anymore," Jason grumbled as he began to pace.

"What about the rest of the Court? They're still very much alive, probably," Dick strained, obviously distressed as he looked up at Jason pleadingly.

"We should have finished them all off back in that stinking sewer. They're up to something again, and the city's suffering for it. We should clean up our mess! And...and who knows, it might give you some closure, too," Jason rambled as his lovers' grim eyes followed him.

"Jason..." Tim bit his lip reluctantly as Dick laid his head against Tim's small shoulders. Jason could have sworn he heard Dick whimper softly. A pang of guilt joined the restless agitation and anger floating around in his chest. "I...the Court's been lying in wait for over a year. They could have planned this, it could be a trap. I mean, if they got Batman—"

"Yeah, yeah," Jason dismissed passively, plopping down in the seat that Damian had occupied not minutes ago. "Isn't that all the more reason to go, though? I mean, since you and Brucie are such good friends, I figure you'd be the main one who wanted to save him, right?" Tim winced, and Jason immediately regretted his barb. Shit...He didn't mean for it to sound that bad.

"I—he wasn't—he is my friend, and I do want to help," Tim admitted, swallowing thickly, a trademark blush staining his pale cheeks. "But Gotham maybe isn't the safest place for all of us. I mean, if the Court really did orchestrate this, we're dead men already. And don't forget, I'm still technically a wanted man. And Bruce said he'd lock you up if you ever set foot back there," Tim reasoned desperately. That's when Jason immediately scoffed in a surge of anger that shocked even himself.

"I don't think Bruce has that right or ability anymore," Jason growled bitterly. "Especially if we spring him from whatever rock he's hiding under. And if he tries, we can let it slip just who's face it is behind that mask."

"I think you've overreacting a bit." Tim frowned, thinning his lips in a warning of oncoming anger. "He helped us multiple times, and all you can think of is exploiting him and endangering our lives again?" Shit, this was slowly starting to blow out of proportion, Jason realized.

"And what about Dick? You really want to drag him back there? Look at him," Tim clenched his jaw as he pointed to their lover curled up in his arms. Dick grimaced and clenched in a mild panic. Jason's breath caught in his throat and immediately cooled his boiling blood. Jason sighed heavily and rose up to scramble back onto the bed and draw Dick into his arms.

"Dick...I can't imagine how hard this is for you," he murmured softly, stroking Dick's shoulder with his thumb. "I'm sorry for yelling and making a big stink over this. I just...after everything that brat said about Gotham burning, and that massive power vacuum, and Bruce Wayne of all people playing vigilante in my city—" The fire was welling up in his chest again, and Tim glared at him in warning. Jason bit his tongue and tried to rephrase.

"Gotham was my home." Jason lowered his voice to a defeated murmur before planting a soft kiss against Dick's cheek. Dick chewed the inside of his cheeks and looked up to meet his eyes.

"Do you miss it, Jay?" he asked quietly. "Gotham?" The question took him by surprise, and he hesitated. He wanted deny it. That hellhole was a stinking pile of piss and shit. But he'd lived there his whole life. He'd cared for the city, looked after its citizens, and for a while he had wanted to believe he'd made a difference. Gotham might not be worth much, but when he thought of home, he pictured its skyscrapers and gothic churches.

"Sometimes," he admitted reluctantly. Dick, and even Tim softened their gazes into understanding, and they exchanged a knowing glance. Had he been that obvious? Was this something they'd noticed and talked about before? Jason groaned internally.

"I don't want to make you do this if it'll hurt you, Dick," Jason added quickly, earnestly as he tilted the man's chin up for a better look. He didn't want to guilt Dick into doing anything. He wanted him to know he was more important, so much more important than Gotham ever was. Dick cast his eyes down and turned toward Tim.

"You want to do this? To help Batman?" Dick asked, eyes searching Tim's hesitant face for answers.

"I do and I don't. Batman's our friend—or mine, at least," he amended catching sight of Jason's eyeroll. "But if we go back, we may never get back out," his voice cracked. He was scared, Jason realized. "We may never be together like this again. We could be locked up or taken, or—or worse." Something in his face broke, and Dick was the one pulling Tim into an embrace now. Jason felt hollow at the thought of losing either one of them. These two men had been his whole life in the last 12 months. They'd built...whatever this relationship was...from blood and ashes into something ironclad and unique. They were part of his very soul, and he loved both of them. Maybe Tim was right. Maybe shitty old Gotham wasn't worth the risk of losing them to a Court of Monsters and Bats or whatever.

At the thought, Dick pulled away from Tim and something in his face changed. Dick's expression smoothed into calm stoicism, and with an even intake of breath, he moved forward off the bed and onto his feet with his signature grace. Tim and Jason stared after him curiously as he approached the small closet beside the bathroom and threw the door open determinedly. In one lithe move, he reached in and pulled out two instantly familiar dual swords that shined, even in the dim light of the room. Blue eyes stared down at the weapons as he twirled them once, twice in his expert hands. And then Dick straightened up with a confident discipline that Jason hadn't seen in months.

"Let's go kick some ass. We owe Bats that much. And if we can finish what we started and get Gotham back on her feet while we're at it, then why the hell not?" He smiled forcefully. Jason and Tim exchanged an uncertain glance. Was Dick for real? Did he really mean it, or was it just for their sakes?

"Dick, are you sure?" Tim voiced Jason's concern. Dick's expression faltered for a fraction of a second before carefully crafted confidence took over once again. He whisked his swords experimentally in fighting form and flexed his muscles.

"I've still got one good mission left in me," he affirmed boldly as he straightened back up. Jason nodded in agreement, impressed that even after all this time Dick hadn't lost an ounce of his lethal touch.

"Just promise me one thing?" Dick set the swords to rest on the empty chair as he approached them once again on the bed.

"Yeah?" Jason quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"None of us dies," Dick's voice was quiet, but pleading. Jason's eyes softened and he reached up to to clasp Dick's hand. "If we do this... If _I_ do this, then it's just to set us free and end this once and for all. We have to _survive_."

"I promise," Jason agreed, lacing their fingers together. "As soon as we figure out what the hell is going on, it's you, and me, and Tim all together. We'll run away together, and you'll never have to lift a finger ever again."

Tim smiled beside them and sighed as he crawled over to kiss them, one by one.

"That sounds like a plan to me," he agreed.


End file.
